Me when MW4 Price appears on the screen:
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KIROKAZE
occasionally subtle
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

Origami Around

izzy's playlists!

pixel skylines
Three Goblin Art

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Keni
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
taylor price
will byers stan first human second
Cosimo Galluzzi

Discoholic 🪩
DEAR READER
we're not kids anymore.
RMH
wallacepolsom
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@y-ukioo
Me when MW4 Price appears on the screen:
Makarov and Nolan discussing new plans and documents and Makarov randomly saying «you have a funny accent when you speak russian» and then continuing the heated discussion of the plan as if nothing had happened
ㅤ
and leaving Nolan in limbo
Andrei isn't above making out like teenagers, especially with the sound of a gunshot still ringing in his ear.
Wandering hands groping at his ass with a touch far from gentle, teeth biting at swollen lips and blood beading across torn skin.
The other man tastes like tea with a tart hint of raspberry jam, cigarette smoke and spearmint gum.
It should be an awful combination.
And yet Andrei doesn't release his grip on the commander's shoulders until he's had his fix, breathless with Makarov's gum between his teeth.
Men with their partners.
Finally draw them again :3
Andrei “I’m starting to realise how much time I spend with my boss and it’s probably really annoying him so I should try and distance myself a bit so he’s got some more personal space” Nolan
Vs
Vladimir “If my second in command leaves my sight for more than 5 seconds I’m killing everyone I see” Makarov
Do you guys think they kiss
"Fellas grab your lady if your lady's fine"
Characters included: Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price, Roach, Nikolai, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria, Keegan, Konig, Nikto, Krueger, Graves, Farah, Hadir, Alex, Laswell, Makarov
John "Soap" MacTavish Soap hears the beat drop - "Fellas, grab your lady if your lady fine"-and sprints. Full tackle hug. He scoops you up with a dizzying spin, gripping your waist like you might disappear. "Mine. All mine. Look at this stunner!" He's already yelling into the camera, pointing at you like you're a trophy he just won. "Who let you look this good? Who?!" He's laughing, kissing your face a thousand times while holding you tight enough to squeak. He doesn't even check if the camera's rolling - he just needs the world to know you're his.
Simon "Ghost" Riley He hears the lyric, lifts his head slowly... and stares. His eyes lock on you across the room. No words. Just heat. He moves toward you like a storm, scoops you up with one arm around your waist, and tucks your head under his chin. "Mine," he mutters darkly, voice low and possessive. "You're mine, yeah?" He glares at the phone camera like it personally offended him by suggesting someone else might try to claim you. He won't say much, but his death-grip cuddle and protective hover speak volumes. Someone play the song again. He liked that.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick "Oh hell yeah!" Gaz yeets himself across the room with the biggest grin. "That's my cue!" He runs at you, scoops you up bridal style, and yells LOOK AT THEM!! FINEEEE AS HELL!!" to no one in particular. He does a whole Tik Tok spin with you in his arms, kisses your forehead, and then shoves his face in the camera: "Y'all wish you had someone like this. You WISH." He's giddy, shameless, and absolutely using this trend as an excuse to hype you up all day long.
John Price The second the line drops, Price just calmly walks up behind you, wraps both arms around your waist, and presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. "You heard them," he murmurs into your ear. "Fine as hell, and all mine." His grip is firm, his smile warm, and he doesn't even care that you're recording - he needed a reason to wrap himself around you. Bonus points: he won't let go for the next hour. "What, trend's still going. Just doing my part."
Gary "Roach" Sanderson You barely hear the song finish the word "fine" before Roach body slams into your back like a clingy cat. He wraps around you like a backpack, legs and all. You're laughing, but he's just grinning into your neck, clinging like he'll die if you take a step. Then he gives the camera a thumbs-up from behind you. "Approved," he signs quickly, then tugs you back to the couch with him still attached. He's not letting go. Ever. Song or no song you're now his personal pillow.
Nikolai Nikolai pops up from wherever he is the moment he hears the lyric. "Ah! They are talking about you, dorogaya." He twirls you into a deep, dramatic dip like you're dancing in a Russian ballroom, then kisses your hand like a gentleman. "Fine? That is an insult. You are divine." He's playing it up, for sure - winking at the phone, pointing at you like you're a royal gem. He's dramatic, proud, and already uploading the video with "#SheMine #TooFineForThisWorld”.
Alejandro Vargas He SLAPS his knee when he hears the audio. "¡Dios mío, yes!" Alejandro charges across the room picks you up, and throws you over his shoulder like you're a sack of gold. "They said grab you, cariño. I am obeying." You squeal, and he smacks your ass with a loud laugh. Fine? You're perfection. I should be arrested." He drops you on the couch and dramatically throws himself on top of you. "Trend complete. You are claimed."
Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra Rudy hears the line, immediately goes beet red... then walks over, gently takes your hand, and pulls you into a quiet, strong hug. He tucks his chin over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles on your back. "They're right," he says quietly. "You are." You can feel his smile against your skin, even if his ears are red. It's shy, it's sincere, and when he sees the video afterward, he just shrugs with a soft laugh. "I couldn't help it."
Valeria Garza "Damn right they are," Valeria growls as she hears the trend, slams her phone down, and yanks you into her lap without a second of hesitation. You think I need a Tik Tok to remind me you're mine?" She kisses your jaw, grabs your chin, and glares at the imaginary audience. "Let 'em look. They can't touch." She starts whispering all the things she wants to do to you in Spanish - most of which are not safe for Tik Tok.
Keegan Russ Keegan hears the audio, looks at you, and just stares. Then he marches over, loops his arms around your waist from behind, and holds you like a vice. "Yeah. Mine," he mutters into your ear. "Don't care who else is watching." His grip is warm and strong, and he presses a kiss to your jawline while glaring at the camera. His version of "grab your fine lady" is full tactical possessiveness - silent, serious, and absolutely not negotiable.
König He hears the line, peeks shyly from around the corner... and bolts. You yelp as he tackles you into the biggest, fluffiest hug ever. "I'm following orders," he mumbles into your hair, holding you so tightly you can't breathe. "You're fine. Too fine! Dangerous." He's beet red under the mask, but he won't stop snuggling you. "I didn't even know we were filming," he adds quietly, "but I would've done it anyway." That's love, baby.
Nikto Nikto hears it, sighs darkly, and stomps over. "Come here," he growls, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his lap possessively. "They said fine? Understatement." He rests his chin on your shoulder, arms banded around you like a trap. "Don't post this. It's for us." But then he stares dead into the camera and adds: They touch, they die." Cue 100K saves.
Krueger The audio plays. Krueger says nothing. He just appears behind you, wraps one arm around your shoulders, and stares menacingly into the camera. "I heard the instructions," he says in his calm, eerie tone. "They didn't say anything about letting go." You're stuck there now. He's not even hugging - he's caging. It's fine You're his forever. TikTok has spoken.
Philip Graves "HELL YEAH!" Graves yells as the song hits. "GET OVER HERE!" He hoots, grabs you by the hips, and lifts you into the air like you're Simba. "WHO'S FINE? YOU'RE FINE. WHO SAID THAT? THEY SAID THAT!" He dips you back dramatically, kisses you on the mouth, then flexes to the camera like a cowboy Casanova. "Don't get jealous now, folks. This prize is taken."
Farah Karim Farah hears the song, sets her book down calmly, and walks over like a queen. "They said what they said," she murmurs, gently pulling you into her arms. She brushes her hand along your cheek, tilts your face toward hers, and kisses you slowly! You are," she whispers. "You're so fine it hurts." Her voice is low, her touch reverent. She lets the world hear the song - but makes sure you feel every word.
Hadir Karim Hadir looks up mid-snack, hears the lyrics, and immediately drops his food. "OH I GOTTA PARTICIPATE." He stumbles into the hallway, slides toward you in socks, then grabs you in a dramatic dip. "Fine? More like heavenly." He kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips, then turns to the camera like a game show host. "10/10. Would marry. Already did." He adds a wink for good measure.
Alex Keller Alex hears the trend and just smiles-that calm, easygoing smile that makes your knees weak. He strolls over, picks you up bridal-style without a second thought, and grins at the camera like you're the only person who matters. "How could I not grab you?" he says, kissing your forehead. It's casual, it's sweet, it's full of warmth. There's no pressure, just this deep, unshakable adoration in the way he looks at you. You're blushing, of course, but he just chuckles. "You're fine, you're smart, and you're mine." He posts it and adds a caption: "The best part of my day.
Kate Laswell Laswell raises an eyebrow when you bring up the trend, but humors you with that small, amused smirk. When the beat hits, she doesn 't grab you-she steps beside you, links her fingers with yours, and lifts your joined hands to the camera like a quiet victory." They already know," she says softly, eyes twinkling. She doesn't need to perform or stake her claim-her presence alone is assurance. But she does lean in to kiss your cheek at the end, murmuring, “Still gonna remind 'em who you belong to." And somehow, that quiet confidence is sexier than anything else.
Vladimir Makarov Makarov doesn't play by rules-he dominates them. When the trend plays, he grabs you by the waist with no hesitation, pulling you tight against his side. His smirk is wicked, eyes gleaming as he says, "Fine? No. You are untouchable." He kisses your hand like royalty, then glares at the camera like it's about to become a corpse. He doesn't just want the world to know you're his-he wants it to fear the thought of crossing that line. But behind closed doors, when the phone is away and the fire has dimmed, he whispers in Russian how beautiful you are. You're his softest obsession.
In hand luggage, no less
OG Vladimir Makarov headcannons/script
I have been wanting to write about realistic headcannons/thoughts with vladimir makarov -> very much inspirated by this post
Call it headcannons or whatever you want,i just wrote it like this.
This is about OG Vladimir because the reboot doesnt strike that.....villianous (is that a word?) as the OG one. In my eyes the OG is dangerous, manipulative, controlling, deeply unstable.
So this post is me stepping temporally out of my delulu's and be frfr.
He Doesn’t “Date” You -> He Acquires You
Makarov doesn’t see you as an equal partner.
In his mind, you are part of his game -> and his game,is the very world, like information or weapons.
When he chooses you, that’s it. Your opinion barely factors into it.
Manipulation Is His First Language
He never argues directly. He undermines you until you feel small:
“You’re overreacting again. You always do.”
“If you listened the first time, I wouldn’t have to raise my voice.”
“Everyone else manages to handle this. Why can’t you?”
He makes you question your memory, intentions, and even your sanity.
He Lies Without Hesitation
He lies the way other people breathe.
Where he went.
Who he met.
What he’s planning.
Whether he’s in danger.
Whether you are in danger.
And when you catch him?
He flips it.
“If you trusted me, you wouldn’t ask.”
Affection Is a Weapon
He uses tenderness only when he wants something:
When you’re about to leave him.
When he needs you calm.
When he wants information.
When he needs you quiet.
Suddenly he’s gentle, apologetic, attentive— but it never lasts.
It’s a reset button, not love.
He Controls Your Life Quietly
He doesn’t scream or forbid things outright.
Instead:
That friend you were texting? Suddenly blocked.
Your passport? Missing.
Your favorite earrings? “Lost.”
Money? Always “handled” by him.
Your family? He poisons them in conversation.
Until one day you realize you have no support system left except him.
He Silences You Without Lifting a Finger
If you raise your voice, complain, or cry?
He goes cold. Emotionless. Staring.
His silence is worse than yelling.
He waits until you break first.
“Are you finished?” Kills every argument instantly.
Public Face vs Private Face
To outsiders:
He’s charismatic.
He speaks for you.
He acts like a protective husband.
To you:
He’s dismissive.
Sharp.
Critical.
Unpredictable.
No one believes you when you try to describe him.
He knows that.
He Keeps You Dependent
He will:
Buy you things you didn’t ask for.
Handle every major decision.
Insist he’s “protecting” you.
Point out everything he does for you.
So when he hurts you? You feel guilty for being upset.
That’s intentional.
He Never Lets You Leave
If you pack a bag? He finds you.
If you ignore him? He shows up.
If you try to break up? He laughs.
“You don’t decide when this ends.”
He is dangerous enough that the threat is real.
Yet He Never Wants to Hurt You Physically
Not out of kindness— but because your usefulness matters.
You are prettier intact. Calmer. Soft-spoken.
If you cry, he hates it—not because you’re sad, but because it means he’s losing control of the narrative.
The Worst Part: He Has Moments of Real Vulnerability
Sometimes, at night or after violence, he folds into you quietly:
Head on your shoulder.
Breath shaky.
Asking you not to leave.
Whispering things he’d never admit when he’s sober.
Those rare cracks in his armor keep you tied longer than anything.
Because part of you believes you can fix him.
You can’t.
hi!!! your vladimir makarov headcanons are lovely<33 especially the OG makarov ones ☆
do you have any more headcanons for him? it mentions a solution for defying him, what would he use??
ur writing is so lovely
Headcannons Vladimir Makarov
Main Masterlist | COD Masterlist
He’ll let you believe he trusted you — and then suddenly pull a thread and make your entire world come apart in one motion.
Makarov’s favorite “solution” to defiance isn’t even violence — it’s removing your sense of stability.
he weaponizes loyalty
Like: He makes you wait. He goes silent. He cancels plans without explanation. He tells you nothing and makes you spiral.
He likes to show you that life moves better when you’re aligned with him.
emotional punishment is his first tactic.
He’ll act like you don’t exist for a few hours, or a day, or two.
because for someone who loves him, ignoring them is the most effective weapon.
When you truly betray him,he siltently takes his gun and one bullet in and points it at you
with a lover he would corner you against a wall, speak low, and simply make you look at him until your breathing matches his.
his solution in intimacy is:
controlled presence unbroken eye contact “Say the truth with your mouth.”
Makarov uses fear as the real weapon. He doesn’t need to fire anything to make you fold.
the bullet is theatre.
the actual solution he uses is information advantage.
OG Makarov destroys you socially, strategically, politically — before he ever thinks of destroying you physically.
OG Vladimir Makarov Headcannons:Dark side
Main Masterlist | COD Masterlist
The will of a single ma that can corrupt the world...you think he wouldnt corrupt you?
It feels like care… until you realize you’re no longer deciding anything for yourself.
He begins rewriting your routines — controlling who you talk to, where you go, and what you hear. Yet every restriction comes with a gift: a better apartment, security, luxury. You’re trapped in gold.
His dominance isn’t loud or angry; it’s surgical. He knows exactly how to make you choose what he wants — planting fear, guilt, or devotion in just the right place.
Makarov doesn’t yell. He manipulates silence. If you upset him, he won’t punish you. He’ll simply withdraw — a cold, suffocating distance that makes you desperate to fix it.
He studies your weaknesses like maps. He knows what tone makes you cry, what gesture softens your defenses, what phrase makes you confess things you didn’t mean to.
Sometimes he’ll whisper something dangerous while you’re half-asleep — about a plan, a name, a place. When you ask him the next day, he denies ever saying it. You start to question your memory.
You think you know what he does — the missions, the goals, the politics. But you don’t. You’re just seeing the surface. Makarov operates with layers of deception, even with you.
He keeps notebooks locked away, codes you can’t crack. You’ve seen him burn letters, whisper into encrypted phones at 3 AM, speak in languages you didn’t know he knew.
One day, you accidentally overhear him giving an order that doesn’t fit his ideology — something cruel, unjustifiable. He catches your gaze mid-sentence… and simply says, “You weren’t meant to hear that, moya lyubov.” (My love) and smiles.
You live in comfort but under total surveillance. Guards who claim to “protect” you also report every move you make. The driver never takes you where you ask to go.
Even your phone is monitored. If someone calls you unexpectedly, they disappear from your contact list the next day.
You once tried to leave — not out of hatred, but exhaustion. He found you within hours. He didn’t yell. He just walked up, took your hand, and said,
“You can leave, but you’ll never be safe without me.” and the terrifying part is… you believe him.
He loves you the way he conquers nations — with precision, force, and no exit plan. To Makarov, love isn’t shared. It’s owned.
He doesn’t trust anyone else with your heart, your safety, or your truth. Even your emotions belong to him in his mind.
If you ever question his morality, he’ll cup your face gently and murmur,
“You can hate me. But you’ll still sleep in my arms.”
His obsession isn’t only control — it’s dependence. You’re the only softness left in him, the only thing separating him from pure destruction. Losing you would make him unleash hell.
There comes a point where you realize: he doesn’t want you to understand him — he wants you to obey.
And yet, in his own twisted way, he adores you. You’re the only one he’d die for. The irony? He’d rather destroy you than let someone else have you.
He once said quietly, “If you betray me, I’ll forgive you. But I’ll make the world remember what you meant to me.” And the tone in his voice made you realize it wasn’t a threat — it was a promise wrapped in love.
Part 2 : Makarov x reader
Main Masterlist | COD Main Masterlist
Part 1
A request shall be granted by your author,as always.
You buckle the boys in, hands trembling just a little, hiding it with mother-practice. The hum of engines make your ears press hot and cold.
You looked from the side-you had the oldest two infront of you while the very youngt sat next to you...and....was struggling around.
''(о/н)…следи за своим братом - не мешай людям впереди тебя''(o/n)...watch for your brother-dont bother the people infront of you'' You said,trying to hid your paronia.
''Да, мама'' Yes mama''
The oldest look behind you
Папа знает, что мы едем в Нидерланды?''Does papa know we are going to the Netherlands?''
''Да… знает…''''Yes……he does…''
The boys were watching the movies they offerd ont he plane while you kept looking around...as if in fear you are being watched.
The flight to the Netherlands is the mid-hold. Once there, they’ll transfer to the long flight to America.
The boys think it’s a vacation.
You’re not sure if you’ll ever sleep again.
you try to nap but you can’t. eventually you gently wake each boy one by one so they can stretch. everything feels normal again for a second.
A flight attendant walks by, smiling kindly… but she lingers a second too long.
Hours later—touchdown.
Amsterdam Internation Airport Schiphol.
You took the baggage out,waiting for the moment the plane was almost empty. You kept warnng the boys to watch their steps ont he escalators. The baggage holder weighing more because the yougnest 2 sat on it while you rided.
The moment you get signal again, your phone vibrates and you answer immediately.
''He....hello?''
''...Y/n this is Laswell-you talked to captian Price?''
''O-oh..yes....yes i did''
Her voice is calm, low, controlled.
“Alright, listen to me. You’re safe for now, but once you get on the second plane—protocol changes. I’ll have a team waiting in Chicago to pick you up directly from the gate. No walking around, no shops. When you land in America you are not an anonymous woman anymore—you’re evidence.”
You swallow hard, nodding even though she can’t see.
“And Y/n—” Laswell adds. “He will realize this is defection. He will escalate.”
The boys tug your arm.
“Mama! Mama look! Pancakes!”
You force a smile.
“…I understand.”
''Good.....i will see you in some hours''
''...Laswell......will....will he find us?''
''......You are under US protection.....we will be ahead of him if he tries something''
''.........''
''.......Safe flight,Yn''
You nodded as you hung up. You walked through Border securty easily. You both the boys some food as they gazed at the many planes from the large windows.
10 minutes before boarding call
You guide the boys to the restroom.
“Подожди меня снаружи, хорошо? Не двигайся.''Wait for me outside, okay? Don’t move.”
They nod, excited and half-giggling.
You enter the stall, lock the door, breathe.
The bathroom light is bright, too bright, too sterile. The airport PA system echoes outside the door. You wash your hands with trembling fingers, trying not to look as nervous as you feel, even though your reflection already gives you away.
You dry your hands, take a breath and whisper to yourself:
Stay strong. Don’t make them see you scared. If the boys see fear in your eyes—they’ll panic. And they need you calm.
You step toward the door—
—and then you freeze.
The boys’ voices are right outside.
Sweet, innocent, excited.
But they’re not talking to each other.
They’re talking to a man.
A man with a voice like velvet and knives.
''Куда мы идём, отец?''Where are we going, father?
Ты купил мне синий?!''You bought me the blue one?!
Your heart physically stops. Your hand automatically goes to cover your mouth.
The faucet behind you keeps dripping—drip… drip… drip…—each drop loud as gunshots.
His cologne is in the air. That deep cedar and expensive musk.
There is no smell on Earth like him.
your lungs burn.
This airport is huge. Thousands of people. Hundreds of gates. Dozens of floors.
And yet—he found you.
Of course he did.
He always does.
He is always five steps ahead.
You back into the corner of the bathroom stall, eyes wide.
A deep chuckle rolls through the air outside—quiet, rich, amused.
It shakes your ribcage even though he’s not touching you.
His voice lowers—so soft you almost think you imagined it.
«Папа всегда знает, где найти своих маленьких пилотов…''Daddy always knows where to find his little pilots…''
He pauses. A beat of silence so heavy you feel it physically.
You can hear your oldest giggle, unaware of the storm.
“Папа, смотри! Самолет огромный!”Papa, look! The airplane is huge!
You squeeze your eyes shut.
This—THIS—is your nightmare.
Your phone buzzed
Your risked 1 sec to check on your phone
Now Calling: Captain Price
You risk one look at the door crack.
You see his shadow.
Just the outline of his shoes under the door.
And it’s enough to make your pulse crash.
He is one door away.
One thin layer of wood between you and the man you love the man that will tear the world apart to keep you and your sons.
10 hours ago
He heard Price’s voice the moment the line tapped in.
He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t move.
Only one thought punches through his skull:
they’re planning to move her.
Price spoke of lies and of a woman who believed those lies. He told Makarov that Y/n had been given choices — choices Price believed would break her, or save her, and that Price had reached her first. The name Laswell. The word defect. The gunmetal rasp of logic that came down like a verdict.
Makarov’s hand tightened around the phone until his knuckles shone white. He listened to the rest without comment: the warning, the plea for her to leave, the careful way Price painted the world as either a battlefield or a lifeboat. At the end, Price promised one thing: that he would try, softly, to pull her out.
The call ended with a click. In the silent glass of the room, Makarov turned the phone face down and watched his wife walk around the house and block the camera's he instaltn in the house.
He stood up and smirked-the gears in his mind already moving
First— the contacts. He reactivated an old line in airport security, a man who loved too much money and too little reputation. A former KGB officer with a crooked conscience and an easy grin. For a few thousand euros and a promise of future favors, the man would scan the lists and let whispers float by: a woman seen on a bus, two suitcases; a family with three boys, a woman who never looked anyone in the eye. Makarov bought a web of gossip and transactions and watchful men.
Second — the passports, the buses, the patterns. He dispatched assets to track every habitual route she would take: the morning supermarket, the post office, the bus hub that led to the smaller stations. He shadowed the predictable with a patience that made the unpredictable predictable. If she fled, she would run where she had run before — toward the life he had provided her, toward the places she preferred because she believed they were safe.
Third- Reaching for the book he took out a metal box-a Locater...for a special tracker...well....tracker.
He stands, quietly. Walks back into the office.
The room is wrong.
The air is wrong.
The window is cracked on the far right corner—glass dust on the floor. The locked drawer? Empty. Your passport drawer? Empty. He opens the wall safe—zero cash, zero bonds, zero emergency gold.
Everything you would need to vanish—
gone.
He walks outside. Drops to one knee and slides under the car.
The tracking device under the chassis is rotated 3cm.
Deliberately.
He closes his eyes and exhales once through his nose.
“…you learned from me.”
He stands, turns toward the road. Bus stop 40 meters away. His phone buzzed.
When the ping came from his contact — the feed that mattered more than any text, the one that told him she was moving — he did not move like a man who panics.
16 minutes later
CCTV—bus stop feed.
One woman in hoodie, sunglasses, three boys, all in caps.
The second oldest keeps losing his shoe lace and you crouch to tie it—he zooms in.
That small gesture — he would recognize your hands anywhere.
He taps a key.
Trace bus route.
Train station.
Airport terminal.
He cross‑logs into airport CCTV before the train even arrives.
One camera after another after another until he spotted them entering the aiport.
He told himself stories about why she left. He did not imagine it as betrayal; he imagined it as a test of loyalty she could not help but fail. He cataloged every detail that made him love her and every detail that made him want to stop her.
Boarding sign: Amsterdam → Chicago.
But not direct.
A holdover in the Netherlands.
Twelve hours.
He shuts the laptop. He does not slam it. He closes it like a coffin lid.
He calls his people.
“Prep my team. We leave in ten.”
present time — Schiphol Airport, Netherlands
He is walking through the terminal like he owns it.
Konni men spread out like ghosts — no insignia, no jackets, no noise.
He moved like a predator that had been asleep, finally stretching.
How can you think you can outplay your husbands who was dedicated his live of serving his ego and Russia?
He doesn’t need to search blind when he holds the locater. Locating what you may ask? Well... the implants behind your children’s ears — emergency geo‑locators.
Three small red dots on his screen.
He watched the feed of the airport, his eyes skimming the grainy frames where her small body walked with three boys—one on each side, one trailing. His chest tightened, not with fear, but with a proprietorial ache. He wanted to step into that image and pluck her from the scene, hold her like something fragile and complainant.
He arrived before the plane emptied, before the sea of passengers could swallow her into anonymity. He stood intentionally where he would be found: near the restroom doors, where a mother would take her boys for ritual smallness—water, hands, pockets emptied. He stood like a man who knew all the answers, wearing the casual finery of a man who would never queue.
The sound of her voice on the feed had been transcribed in his mind: low, patient, the practiced cadence of someone who had learned to soothe. He waited to hear the sound of small voices — then, when the boys’ laughter threaded into the audio, it was like a bell.
He made no move to reach for them. He wanted her to see him stand there; he wanted the terror to sink into her like cold water. He wanted the myth of his inevitability to be true in her bones.
Gate G — near restrooms.
He turns the corner.
The boys see him first.
“Папа!”Dad!
Three voices. Pure joy.
They run toward him and he crouches instantly, arms open.
He hugs them — real. Warm. Close.
He kisses each temple. Ruffles their hair.
They chatter excitedly.
He listens.
But his eyes…
never leave that women’s restroom door.
Not for a single second.
''Куда мы идём, отец?''Where are we going, father?
Ты купил мне синий?!''You bought me the blue one?!
He looked down and placed a head on the top f the oldest ''отпуск, твоя мама его запланировала…с кем-то, кто не нравится папе''...holiday,your mom planned it...with someone daddy doesnt like''
''Как ты нас нашел, папа?''How did you find us,dad?'' The middle asked
«Папа всегда знает, где найти своих маленьких пилотов…''Daddy always knows where to find his little pilots…''
He pauses. A beat of silence so heavy you feel it physically.
You can hear your oldest giggle, unaware of the storm.
“Папа, смотри! Самолет огромный!”Papa, look! The airplane is huge!
and he smiles, head tilted just slightly before going to the restroom door. Your perfume lignering inside as he slightly opens the door...
Just Like That, Darlin: Phillip Graves
Main Masterlist | COD Main Masterlist
You already regret saying “teach me.”
Because now you’re standing out at a private range, sun warm on your skin, hands on a gun that feels way too heavy—and Phillip Graves is right behind you. Real close. Like heat-on-your-neck close.
His arms bracket yours. His chest brushes your back with every breath. His voice? Low, smooth, close to your ear.
“Easy now. Feet shoulder-width apart. Don’t lock your elbows, sweetheart.”
You shift a little. He hums in approval, large hands guiding yours into position.
“Atta girl. Keep your eye on the target. Breathe with me, alright?”
He leans in just a touch more—enough that you feel his belt buckle press into your lower back—and honestly? It’s a miracle you’re still standing.
“Now… squeeze the trigger. Don’t jerk it. You’re in control here.”
Bang.
The recoil rocks through your arms—but he’s got you. A firm hand on your stomach, pulling you back against him as he chuckles near your ear.
“That’s my girl. You feel that? That power? You just owned that shot.”
You glance back at him, and he’s got that cocky little half-smile—dimples, perfect jawline, sunglasses pushed up in his hair. Smug. But proud. So damn proud.
“Wanna go again?” “I’ll be right here. Every shot. You and me, baby.”
And just like that, the gun doesn’t feel so heavy. Because he’s behind you. Always steady. Always yours.
Reboot Makarov x read Headcannons: Dark side
Main Masterlist | COD Masterlist
He never “chased” you. He studied you. The way you think, what you fear, what your loyalties cost. He knew what kind of person you’d be to him before you even realized who he was.
His attraction isn’t impulsive — it’s strategic. You’re not just someone he loves; you’re someone he’s chosen to trust in a world where trust is a liability.
His charm is understated — polite tone, poised stance, the kind of smile that says he’s already five steps ahead.
Makarov’s control doesn’t come from orders — it comes from logic that sounds like care. “You don’t need to go there; I already sent someone.”“Don’t worry about that contact — they’re unreliable.” “Why waste energy when I can handle it for you?”
It feels rational until you realize he’s stripped you of every decision.
He builds a world around you — efficient, safe, organized — and then quietly becomes the center of it.
He never raises his voice. The scariest thing about him is how calm he stays when others would explode. When he’s angry, he lowers his tone, and it’s worse than shouting.
You’ll never know everything. You’ll hear his phone ring in the middle of the night, see him walk outside to take a call in Russian, and come back looking composed, as if nothing happened.
His laptop is always encrypted, his notes coded, his men briefed to lie if you ask questions. You’re allowed to see his world, never to enter it.
When you press him about it, he doesn’t get defensive — he gets gentle. “You think I hide things because I don’t trust you,” he says, brushing your hair back. “But I hide them because I need you untouched by what I do.” You want to believe him. That’s how he wins.
Reboot Makarov is subtle. He doesn’t forbid you from leaving — he just makes the outside world unappealing. People “disappear,” friends stop calling, opportunities close without reason. You stay, not because you’re trapped — but because you’ve been made to think there’s nowhere safer than him.
He frames control as protection. Every boundary he sets comes wrapped in reassurance. “You’re mine. Not because I demand it. Because no one else can keep you alive.”
He won’t gaslight you directly. He’ll just alter reality slightly until your memories match his version of events.
He touches you like he’s memorizing you for the last time, always composed — never desperate, never sloppy. His affection is almost ceremonial. Each kiss, each touch, each look is measured.
When he’s quiet, it’s because he’s thinking three moves ahead. But when he’s with you — truly with you — the silence feels different. Heavy. Human.
You once found blood on his sleeve. He didn’t hide it. He looked you dead in the eye and said,
“You’re the only one I’ll ever come home to looking like this. Because you’re the only one I want to see me this way.”
Makarov doesn’t punish; he teaches. If you lie to him, he’ll let you think you’ve gotten away with it — then dismantle your security piece by piece until you come to him willingly.
He believes fear is unnecessary when devotion is stronger. So instead of threatening you, he’ll make you need his presence. You won’t realize you’re addicted until the day he pulls away — and your body feels the absence like withdrawal.
When you cry, he doesn’t comfort you right away. He studies the tears, then says quietly:
“Every tear that falls because of me is one the world doesn’t deserve from you.” And somehow, that makes you forgive him.
He does love you — deeply, obsessively — but he sees love as a contract, not a connection. Once you’re his, you’re written into the architecture of his life. There is no exit clause.
You’re the one person who could ruin him. And that’s why he’ll never truly let you go — not alive, not forgotten, not ever.
More crime scene cleaner memes because why not?
Breaking up with the toxic cod men
Tw: forced feminization, Gn!reader, manipulation, non con, toxic dynamics, blackmail, threatening murder, guns, and etc. Dead dove do not eat. price uses the term “wife” on reader in a forcibly feminized way. Posted this at 5 in the morning so this might be horrible.
Price:
-Look at you! You finally stood up for yourself! Putting your foot down and telling him you don’t want to be in a relationship with him anymore because of how’s toxic he’s been.
-Remember how I said Price is a really big family guy? How he slowly turns you into his little housewife? Yeah well the wife doesn’t make the decisions in the relationship for him.
-Trys to scare you, throws your phone at the wall because it’s “filling your mind with stupid shit” and “your friends are plaguing your mind”
-Throws you in the shared bedroom and locks you in there until you apologize. When you do he does that cute little smile he does with a big ol’ hug.
Johnny/soap
-After finally realizing he’s literally drugging you and keeping you almost in a lobotomized mindset you tell him you’re done! that you refuse to keep dating him!
-Just straight up fucking ignores you.
-Refuses to acknowledge it, changes the conversation, or just walks away. Takes you so off guard you just give up after awhile.
-If you keep mentioning it he gets extremely annoyed. Will snap and yell at you, degrading you.
“You really think anyone will want you but me? You’re lucky to have me! Stop being a spoiled bitch and shut up”
Simon/ghost
-After a really bad night when he came home from the bar incredibly drunk,along with throwing a beer bottle at your head you finally get the courage to break up with him.
-He’s hung over as hell so you think he won’t have the energy to argue about it. You were sort of right. Instead he pulls out his phone and shows you the many videos he has of taking advantage of you while he was drunk.
-“How would my team like to see my stupid wife/husband getting their hole wrecked? How you’re begging to stop but so obviously wet? What then?”
Gaz:
-When you finally step up for yourself and try to break up with him after years of him manipulating you. Tired of him keeping you from your friends and missing the nights when you go out with friends.
-Flips out, immediately gets in your face and yells at you. Loams over you while slowly backing you into a wall, trapping you physically.
-“Oh so is there another guy? Huh? Felt to bad about cheating on me so you’re breaking up with me? You’re lucky to have me. Your ran through, so you really think anyone will love you like I do?”
-Somehow the day ends with you apologizing to him for being a bad partner while you cry in his lap. He softly caresses you while accepting it.
Makarov
-Somehow senses you slowly start to realize everything is waring off and his “Treat you like absolute shit and then immediately butter you up with love” tactic isn’t working.
-You don’t even say anything other than “we need to talk” before he throws you in a truck and drives you to some secluded place. Throwing you out and pinning you to the ground
-“You’re my wife. You’ve seen to much to be anything else, you either die right here right now or you stay my wife” 
Philip graves
-You finally realize he literally only sees you as a wife and not a person. He expects you to cook you dinner while doting on him when he comes home from work. He didn’t even ask if you wanted that.
-You sit him down and explain how you feel in which he apologizes so sweetly. Oh how stupid he was! He should have thought about you more! Give him one more chance?
-You cave in, giving him one more chance.
-That night he oh so gently wraps his hands around your body, erection pressing against your ass before covering your mouth and with little prep shoving it in. Growling in your ear how he owns you and your his.
-You hear his hand dig in his drawer, praying he was grabbing a condom but instead he pulls out his small revolver. Pressing it against your temple forcing you to agree to stay his partner.
-“You’re staying here, you’re not leaving understand? Unless you want your brains on the fucking sheets! You don’t? Good.”
Breaking up with the toxic cod men
Tw: forced feminization, Gn!reader, manipulation, non con, toxic dynamics, blackmail, threatening murder, guns, and etc. Dead dove do not eat. price uses the term “wife” on reader in a forcibly feminized way. Posted this at 5 in the morning so this might be horrible.
Price:
-Look at you! You finally stood up for yourself! Putting your foot down and telling him you don’t want to be in a relationship with him anymore because of how’s toxic he’s been.
-Remember how I said Price is a really big family guy? How he slowly turns you into his little housewife? Yeah well the wife doesn’t make the decisions in the relationship for him.
-Trys to scare you, throws your phone at the wall because it’s “filling your mind with stupid shit” and “your friends are plaguing your mind”
-Throws you in the shared bedroom and locks you in there until you apologize. When you do he does that cute little smile he does with a big ol’ hug.
Johnny/soap
-After finally realizing he’s literally drugging you and keeping you almost in a lobotomized mindset you tell him you’re done! that you refuse to keep dating him!
-Just straight up fucking ignores you.
-Refuses to acknowledge it, changes the conversation, or just walks away. Takes you so off guard you just give up after awhile.
-If you keep mentioning it he gets extremely annoyed. Will snap and yell at you, degrading you.
“You really think anyone will want you but me? You’re lucky to have me! Stop being a spoiled bitch and shut up”
Simon/ghost
-After a really bad night when he came home from the bar incredibly drunk,along with throwing a beer bottle at your head you finally get the courage to break up with him.
-He’s hung over as hell so you think he won’t have the energy to argue about it. You were sort of right. Instead he pulls out his phone and shows you the many videos he has of taking advantage of you while he was drunk.
-“How would my team like to see my stupid wife/husband getting their hole wrecked? How you’re begging to stop but so obviously wet? What then?”
Gaz:
-When you finally step up for yourself and try to break up with him after years of him manipulating you. Tired of him keeping you from your friends and missing the nights when you go out with friends.
-Flips out, immediately gets in your face and yells at you. Loams over you while slowly backing you into a wall, trapping you physically.
-“Oh so is there another guy? Huh? Felt to bad about cheating on me so you’re breaking up with me? You’re lucky to have me. Your ran through, so you really think anyone will love you like I do?”
-Somehow the day ends with you apologizing to him for being a bad partner while you cry in his lap. He softly caresses you while accepting it.
Makarov
-Somehow senses you slowly start to realize everything is waring off and his “Treat you like absolute shit and then immediately butter you up with love” tactic isn’t working.
-You don’t even say anything other than “we need to talk” before he throws you in a truck and drives you to some secluded place. Throwing you out and pinning you to the ground
-“You’re my wife. You’ve seen to much to be anything else, you either die right here right now or you stay my wife” 
Philip graves
-You finally realize he literally only sees you as a wife and not a person. He expects you to cook you dinner while doting on him when he comes home from work. He didn’t even ask if you wanted that.
-You sit him down and explain how you feel in which he apologizes so sweetly. Oh how stupid he was! He should have thought about you more! Give him one more chance?
-You cave in, giving him one more chance.
-That night he oh so gently wraps his hands around your body, erection pressing against your ass before covering your mouth and with little prep shoving it in. Growling in your ear how he owns you and your his.
-You hear his hand dig in his drawer, praying he was grabbing a condom but instead he pulls out his small revolver. Pressing it against your temple forcing you to agree to stay his partner.
-“You’re staying here, you’re not leaving understand? Unless you want your brains on the fucking sheets! You don’t? Good.”